The Legend Of Black Eyes 245 King Boris, And The Champion Of Ligh

King Nicholas the Brave was riding outside the capital to meet his most esteemed guest, who was riding toward the north gate. Beside him rode his wife, Queen Tatiana, and the Bishop of the Church of Dhobor. A contingent of the king's personal guard and his generals rode behind them.

A long file of officials stood in line as the king crossed the north gate, with The Bishop of the Church of Dhobor riding alongside him. He was an old man with a small stature. His white beard extended toward his chest. He looked like an old hermit who'd just decided to come out and meet the world after decades of isolation. 

People whispered as the king and the bishop roamed the streets of the capital on their way to the north gate. By the King's Road, banners of the Kingdom of Biarkh were erected near banners of each member of the Coalition. Countries that had long sworn against war decided to join a rebellion against the Mad Wizard to restore peace. The Kingdom of Biarkh, alongside Nymeria, Aslanor and Kasmuk had formed the Coalition. 

King Nicholas was wearing a long velvet cape that trailed alongside his horse's tail, even covered it whenever they came to a full stop. He was a tall handsome man of forty moons. He'd read and studied war, but he'd never been in one. 

His esteemed guest, King Boris of Kasmuk, on the other hand, had fought in the Liberation War alongside Theolonius Stalwart. He'd seen the horrors the Mad Wizard could inflict. That alone had made his heart harden. He wasn't the best king to have for company, but he was definitely the one with most experience. 

King Nicholas had hung all his hopes on getting Kasmuk's support against the Tyrant. When King Boris sent word of his arrival, along with an army of fifty thousand, King Nicholas rejoiced. He decided to celebrate that day, in an effort to raise his people's morale. 

Three days before, Queen Celise of Nymeria was found dead. Somebody had impaled her body in a spear and planted it before the southern gate. Her body was charred, but her face was intact. It seemed as though somebody had cut her head off, burned her, then sowed her head right back in. 

To make matters worse, farmers had found her body at first light, right in the middle of the King's Road. It was a clear message from Stalwart; a message that sent fear into people's hearts. The people of Biarkh began whispering of the end of days. 

With Queen Celise's army scattered, King Nicholas had to do something, to show his people and his allies that there was still hope. He met King Boris and his formidable army by the north gate. Drums and trumpets played as the two kings met face to face and shook hands. 

"It's an honor to meet a veteran of the Liberation Wars," King Nicholas had said. "It's a shame we only manage to visit each other in times of war." 

King Boris was an old, small man. His curly, bushy eyebrows formed a natural arc that made Boris seem angry at all times. It was difficult to even smile at him, while all you got back were angry stares. 

He was accompanied by his two sons. One was of King Nicholas's age, the other was slightly younger, thirty five moons by Nicholas's estimation. They both wore a crimson cape that flapped against their shining silver armor. Kasmuk was the land of silver, and their elite soldiers always wore silver to war. 

The old king's brown eyes wandered from the young king to his capital and its tall, magnificent walls. "Those won't keep the mad wizard away, nor will our numbers," he said in a hoa.r.s.e voice.

"Rolar is the safest place in the kingdom. Besides, Stalwart may have his magic, we have our faith," King Nicholas responded. He threw a quick glance at the Bishop's direction.

It was then that King Boris noticed the Bishop. His eyes rested on the old man then his lips pursed into a smile, hidden beneath his gray s.h.a.ggy beard. "The Bishop of the Church of Dhobor," he said. His tone had already become cheerful. "When I heard the young king had your support, I thought they'd lied. Look at him," he eyed Nicholas from head to toe. "He's green... Can't even lift a sword to save his life." 

In truth, Nicholas was twice the old king's size. He was trained to hold the sword since the day he walked. Nicholas gave the old king a wary smile. "You must be tired from your journey. Let us show you inside. We've also prepared private quarters for your officials." 

The old king exhaled through flared nostrils then shot a glance behind him. "Wojtek!" he screamed. 

A young boy, not older than sixteen moons, came rushing toward his king. He bowed to Boris, then turned toward King Nicholas and bowed in turn. "Your grace," he said in a clear, ceremonial tone. 

"This here is my finest warrior," the old king said then turned toward the Bishop. "What say you, Bishop of Dhobor?" 

The Bishop's lazy eyes were now wide open. He inspected the boy for a long time before meeting the old king's gaze. "What Fragment does he hold?" he asked. 

"Chieran's, bless her soul," the old king answered. "He was struggling to master his powers, but after this one's champion died," he said, glancing at the king then guffawed. "Well, we have a one man army just to ourselves." 

"Chieran, the G.o.ddess of light?" King Nicholas asked. "I never knew I had such a champion..." 

The Bishop cleared his throat before King Boris could spew more venom. "It was Stalwart's champion to be precise. He'd lost her to his own grandson, who's now missing." 

King Boris roared in laughter. "How many champions did the Mad Wizard lose so far, huh?" 

"Four," the Bishop answered. 

"He's losing his grip. How convenient of you to declare rebellion now, huh, King Nicholas the Brave?" the old king p.r.o.nounced his last words with pursed lips, as though he despised the nickname the young monarch had earned.

The old man was undermining his efforts, Nicholas knew. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction of looking offended though. "Come, my lord. We have organized a banquet in your honor," Nicholas said with a warm smile.

"How marvellous, I should get ready then!" The old king's sarcasm was clear even to young Wojtek who stood with his head held low. "Wojtek, you may join the others," the king ordered. He turned to Nicholas and revealed his crooked teeth for the first time. "I shall entertain my host here. I'll send for you when serious talks begin."